


The Warmest Part of the Body

by WhisperedWords12



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dry Humping, First Time, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Sex in a Car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 04:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10325180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperedWords12/pseuds/WhisperedWords12
Summary: Stiles and Derek may or may not have pissed off a witch, enticing a snowfall like Beacon Hills has never seen. So maybe they deserve to be stuck on the highway together overnight. Stiles doesn't mind. Derek is like his own mini-heater.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one is dedicated to the intense snowfall that Montreal saw the other day and to the people who had to sleep on highway 13 in their cars.

Stiles smashed his palm against the steering wheel for the sixth time in the past twenty minutes.

Derek sighed. “That’s not going to make us move any faster.”

Stiles blinked, biting his lip against the snide comment he’d wanted to make. He put the Jeep in park and sat back, exhaling and looking out the side window. He almost felt like he’d made friends with guy in the black pickup to his left, who gave him a friendly wave every time they settled in next to each other. Blue Corolla Lady on Derek’s side was also nice. Silver Caliber behind him was an asshole, always inching up a little too close for this kind of weather. The family in front of Black Pickup Guy had kids who were bored and also kind of assholes, but honestly Stiles didn’t blame them. If he had been their age, he wouldn’t have been able to sit still in this kind of traffic through the heavy snowfall.

“Where are the plows?” Stiles asked for the tenth time.

“I don’t know,” Derek said.

Stiles sulked into his seat, crossing his arms. They’d been on the road for two hours already. Scott had warned them when he’d gone ahead with Kira to just find a hotel room if it took them longer than an hour. In the end, Derek had insisted on going home anyways.

Stiles couldn’t fault him on that though, given the circumstances. He glanced down at his gas meter. Quarter tank. He glanced over at Derek. “How are the ribs healing?”

Derek grimaced and pulled up his shirt, the distinct claw marks still raw. At least they weren’t bleeding anymore.

Stiles nodded, wiping his mouth. “Maybe you should put your jacket back on.”

Derek shook his head, “It’s fine. I get warmer faster than you.”

Stiles had noticed. He had his hat, gloves and jacket pulled on tight. Meanwhile Derek was in a t-shirt.

Derek looked up suddenly. He sat up a little straighter.

Stiles leaned closer, squinting out the window.

Hazard lights were going on, doors opening.

Stiles groaned.

Black Pickup Guy opened his door. Stiles sighed. He looked at Derek. “You stay here.”

Normally Derek would have argued. Tonight he waved Stiles ahead. Not the best sign.

Stiles zipped up and climbed out quickly, trying to keep the heat in.

A small crowd was forming up ahead. A guy who must have been only a couple years older than Stiles appeared at his side, extending a gloved hand. Black Pickup Guy.

“Tom,” he said.

Stiles shook it. “Stiles.”

Tom nodded, “I’m hoping this is going to be good news. Haven’t seen snow like this in my lifetime living here.”

Stiles forced out a chuckle. There was no way he could tell he guy that the snow was his fault. Trying to chase off a pack of not-so-nice werewolves too close to Beacon Hill wasn’t the stupidest thing they’ve ever done. They probably should have rethought trying to kill the 100 year old witch that had joined their pack though.

They trudged through the snow, finally joining the group. Stiles recognizing Blue Corolla Lady and the dad from the family van as well.

A couple of officers stood there, passing out blankets and emergency provisions.

Stiles frowned. He and Tom had obviously come in for the end of their speech.

“—Trucks should be here in the morning. Anyone who is hurt gets moved out. The rest have to hang tight.”

Stiles pushed into the circle. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

The officer looked irritated. None of the usual guys, Stiles realized. They were still too far away from Beacon Hill to see guys he’d recognize. “A truck rolled over. It’s blocking all three lanes. We’re bringing in more plows from neighboring counties, but there are accidents like this all over. You’re going to have to stay the night.”

Behind him, Tom grunted.

Stiles frowned, “I’ve got to get back tonight, my Dad’s going to be worried.”

“Everyone’s worried, kid. Give him a call, let him know. There’s enough phones around, we’ve got extra blankets and a medic on sight. Everyone’s going to be fine, just a little cold.”

The circle began dispersing.

Stiles wasn’t done though. “What about if we’re sick? Or injured?”

The officer looked unfazed. “We’ve got a car going back soon for those injured and sick. Do you have someone? It’s going right to the hospital.”

Stiles clenched and unclenched his jaw. He couldn’t put Derek in that car. Derek needed Melissa or Peter, not a doctor.

“No one.” Stiles bit out finally.

The officer nodded and handed Stiles some blankets and snacks. “If you need anything, the car you want is just passed the truck. And you can’t miss the truck.”

Stiles nodded. He turned to head back to his car.

Tom was standing there, giving him a searching look.

Stiles said nothing. They walked back together.

“Sounds like you might have someone hurt in your car,” Tom said softly.

Stiles thought his words over carefully. “We’re okay. We just… don’t like hospitals.”

Tom nodded. “None of my business. If you need anything though, you know where to find me. We’re officially stuck, I’m not going anywhere.”

Stiles laughed darkly. “Honestly, you know what the worst part of this is?”

Tom grinned, “That our trucks can actually handle this type of weather?”

Stiles groaned, stopping in front of his Jeep. “ _Yes_ ,” He said, laughing.

Tom’s smile grew. “Yeah, thought of that an hour ago watching all these little cars slide around.”

Stiles shook his head, but couldn’t fight the grin.

Tom waved as he went around the front of his car. “I’ll be here,” he called.

Stiles waved back and climbed into his Jeep.

Derek took in the blankets, cocking his head. “This looks a lot like we’re going to be spending the night here.”

Stiles nodded.

Derek looked at Stiles searchingly. “You’re in an awfully good mood for someone who just found out we’re staying the night.”

Stiles shrugged.

Derek tried moving the blankets to the backseat, stopping with a wince. Stiles waved him back into his seat, taking them.

Derek looked extra sullen.

Stiles turned the car off. “You okay? They’re evacuating anyone who’s sick now. If it’s that bad, you should go.”

“You know I can’t.” Derek gritted out. He looked like he was in a lot of pain.

Stiles nodded. He looked around, then turned to climb into the backseat over the armrest, earning some half-heart protests from Derek as Stiles jostled him.

Stiles apologized.

Derek sighed and reclined his seat. Stiles handed him a blanket, which Derek refused and pulled his jacket around him.

They had two blankets, two jackets, a small tarp and whatever hats and gloves they’d brought. Not the best for staying in freezing temperatures with a quarter tank of gas. For now it was warm—well, to Derek’s standards boiling and to Stiles’, chilly—but survivable.

Stiles stretched out in the backseat, pulling both blankets over him. He was a little uncomfortable in his jacket, but he’d live.

“You okay?” he asked Derek.

Derek nodded, his eyes closing.

Stiles closed his eyes too. Around them, cars could be heard shutting off, the headlights flicking shut. Stiles pulled the blankets more tightly around him, shivering.

__________________________________________

Stiles jumped as rough hands shook him awake. He sprung up, sitting, looking around.

Gold eyes glowed back at him.

Stiles groaned, body stiff and freezing. He scanned the car. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Is it your ribs?”

Derek snorted, “I’m fine Stiles. It’s you I’m worried about.”

Stiles frowned, pulling the blankets tighter. “Don’t do that to me, you’re going to give me a heart attack.” His teeth were shattering, but the rest of him was still.

Derek’s expression was worried. “When you stopped shivering, I thought it was a good thing.”

Stiles’ winced, “Except maybe not.” He said. It hurt to talk, his chest felt compressed and each breath was labored.

Derek’s lips pressed into a worried line. “Your lips are turning blue.”

Stiles groaned. He tried shifting over, but found the movement difficult. Walking would likely be a challenge too. He felt slightly panicked. “What do I do? Can you carry me to the medic’s car?”

Derek hesitated. “I could try.”

Stiles shook his head. They both knew how bad Derek’s ribs were. Derek didn’t heal as quickly for an alpha’s scratch anymore as a non-alpha. “I could go see Tom,” Stiles suggested. “He might be able to help.”

Derek growled.

Stiles frowned. “What?”

“You’re not going to go see Tom.” Derek said, his words clipped.

“Why not?”

Derek didn’t answer. He shifted in the passenger seat, then climbed into the backseat, practically on top of Stiles.

Stiles yelped, earning a glare from Derek. Whatever protest Stiles was going to make died in his throat under that look.

The Jeep shifted as Derek maneuvered him over to the side, pulling the seats down flat. Derek shooed Stiles’ over to the other side before doing the same on the right side.

With the back seats all down, there was a large flat area connecting to the trunk.

“I don’t understand,” Stiles said. Had his toes always been this cold?

Derek pulled a blanket off Stiles, ignoring his protests.

For fuck sakes, Derek was still only in his _t-shirt_ , his jacket having come loose when he climbed into the backseat.

Derek folded the blanket in half, laying it down and smoothing it out.

Stiles sighed, “Now I’m down a blanket.”

Derek ignored that. “Take the jacket off.”

“Off? Stiles asked in disbelief.

Derek sighed, “Yes Stiles, _off_. Do you trust me?”

Stiles began mumbling under his breath, but fumbled at the zipper with numb fingers. After a couple moments, Derek took pity on him and helped him out of it.

Stiles laid himself down on the blanket and allowed himself to be wrapped up in the remaining blanket by Derek, who then threw his jacket and Stiles’ on top of the heap.

Stiles hated to admit it, but this was so much better. “Where are you going to go?” he asked.

Derek said nothing, just lifted a corner of the blanket and slid into the cocoon, right up against Stiles.

Stiles jumped, then felt instant relief.

Derek wasn’t even touching him and Stiles could feel the heat radiating of his skin. Stiles didn’t even expect to get to touch Derek, so he wasn’t prepared when Derek reached over to pull their bodies together.

Stiles moaned.

Derek chuckled, but Stiles was mortified by his reaction. He buried his face against Derek’s chest, both of them lying on their sides. Derek reached over him, tucking the blanket down further under Stiles.

“You’re freezing,” Derek said.

Stiles hummed and moved closer.

Derek sighed, but didn’t push him away.

“How are the fingers? Toes?”

Stiles flexed them. “Cold.”

Derek nodded.

Stiles’ nose was cold too, but that was currently buried against Derek’s chest, so it was quickly warming up. Plus he got to breath in Derek’s smell.

“They say that the warmest place on the body in between the legs.” Derek said.

“Can’t get my toes up there,” Stiles said. He couldn’t help the slight slurring of his words.

Derek sighed. “Your fingers, Stiles. Your fingers.”

Stiles was sure that if Derek’s arms weren’t pinned around him in their blanket cocoon, Derek would have face palmed. “Oh.” Stiles said thickly.

“Yeah.”

“And you… think that’s appropriate?” Stiles asked.

“Just do it.”

Stiles nodded.

Derek jumped, clearing his throat.

“Okay?” Stiles asked.

“Stiles?” Derek said.

“Yes Derek.”

“I meant between _your_ legs.”

Stiles jumped back so quickly Derek had to clamp his arms down around Stiles to keep him from breaking the blanket cocoon.

Stiles groaned in embarrassment.

Derek sighed. “I’m going to blame this on the hypothermia.”

“Please do, and let’s never talk about this again.”

Derek chuckled. “Getting better?”

“Getting,” Stiles agreed.

Derek hummed. Stiles curled up closer, his hands up around no one’s crotch area, safely tucked between their chests. Stiles fell asleep to the rise and fall of Derek’s chest.

__________________________________________

“Stiles.” The voice said, but Stiles ignored it. He was having the best dream.

“Stiles…” the voice persisted.

Stiles sighed, pushing closer.

“No, Stiles!” the voice insisted.

Stiles groaned, creaking an eye open. The first thing he noticed was Derek’s look of discomfort. Then he felt it.

Stiles flushed, groaning. He was hard. Like, really hard against Derek’s thigh and had definitely until moments before been slowly rubbing himself against his friend.

“You awake now?” Derek asked, voice rough.

Stiles nodded, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

“Good,” Derek said.

Stiles yelped when he was pushed onto his back, being pinning him down easily by Derek with his wrists over his head.

“Better?” Derek asked.

Stiles swallowed, blinking. Was this still a dream? Derek was straddling his lap, their face inches apart. Stiles looked around. Light was just starting to warm the sky.

And it wasn’t just Stiles, Derek was hard too.

Stiles blinked, trying to determine how awake he was. “I’m a dead?” he tried.

Derek looked suddenly very serious. “Yes. You died of hypothermia last night. We both did.”

Stiles worked a hand free and slapped it on Derek’s chest. “I’m serious.”

“You’re alive,” Derek said, almost cheerfully.

Anything Stiles was going to say was lost when Derek tilted his hips down, a low shuddering sigh working its way out of his mouth as he grinded down against Stiles’ hip.

Stiles held still, breathing accelerating.

“You okay?” Derek murmured quietly into his ear.

Stiles nodded. “Yes, great. Definitely okay.”

“You’re feeling warmer,” Derek said causal, grinding down again.

Stiles moaned, back arching to get more friction against Derek.

“There we go,” Derek said into his ear.

“Ribs?” Stiles asked.

“Good enough for this.” Derek said, running a hand down Stiles’ thigh, pausing at the knee to hitch it up and hook it over Derek’s ass.

“Great, end goal?” Stiles asked.

Derek sighed, shifting so he could get a better angle to align their hips. “You come. I come. We go home.”

“Fantastic,” Stiles said, voice catching at the end as Derek rocked down again.

Derek looked fucking fantastic hanging over him, their breaths mixing together as they panted. Derek was good at this, hips just the right part bruising and teasing to keep Stiles hard but not push him over the edge.

For his part, Stiles was just trying to hold on. He may or may not have been scratching up Derek’s back, gripping on for dear life as Derek rocked their hips together. Derek was definitely in control, but Stiles wasn’t going to take this lying down. He arched his back when Derek needed more friction and mumbled nonsense into the air between them, encouraging them both.

Derek’s face was tucked up into his neck, sucking at a spot under his ear. Not hard, but working at it long enough that Stiles knew there’d be a hickey.

Stiles wasn’t satisfied though. That wasn’t where he needed Derek to be.

“How are my lips?” Stiles asked.

“Still a little blue,” Derek said.

“Anything you can do about that?”

Derek laughed, tipping his chin up to bring their lips together.

Stiles gasped as Derek wasted no time, licking at Stiles’ bottom lip. He’s pretty sure his eyes rolled back when Derek’s tongue slid across his own, licking hotly into Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles didn’t even try to be quiet. No one would be able to hear him over the squeaking of the car anyways—shit. The squeaking of the car.

“Derek,” Stiles tried between kisses, but Derek was too far gone now. His hips were moving just a little faster and less rhythmically against Stiles.

“Derek,” Stiles tried again.

“So close,” Derek murmured, bringing their lips together again.

Stiles wanted to sigh, but mostly he just felt fond. And fucking horny.

Derek groaned, clearly coming as his hips stuttered and slowed to a stop, his breathing heavy.

“Did you just come in your pants?” Stiles asked.

Derek chuckled, leaning down to give Stiles another open mouth kiss.

“That’s not going to clean easily,” Stiles said between kisses.

Derek hummed, “Then they’ll just have to come off.”

Stiles pulled away, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked.

“That means less layers for warmth.” Stiles said.

Derek laughed, “I think we’ve already proved that I would survive.”

“Great, but Stiles wouldn’t and I’m still horny.” Stiles groaned.

Derek sighed, rolling his eyes. Derek pushed himself up with minimal wincing and slid down Stiles’ body. Stiles groaned, knowing exactly where this was going, thank god.

Stiles wanted to watch as Derek undid his pants, but honestly he was still cold. If things continued down this vein, Stiles would get to see this again. Hopefully sooner than later. Maybe even tonight if he pushed it.

Stiles felt it as he was freed from his pants. He was going to make an off-beat joke about having—thankfully, knock on wood, thank god—not lost any important appendages when Derek took him into his mouth.

Stiles cried out, moaning.

Derek chuckled low in his throat around Stiles’ cock. There wasn’t much thinking after that.

It didn’t take much. Derek was clearly practiced, which was a surprising turn on for Stiles. Before long Stiles was winding a hand in Derek’s hair and sputtering out warnings.

Derek ignored most of them, continuing to work Stiles through the babbling and hair pulling.

When Stiles came, it was silent. Only a tightening of his hand in Derek’s hair and an aching of his back.

Stiles was dimly aware of Derek cleaning him up before tucking him back in. There was some shuffling. Stiles didn’t bother asking, just focused on catching his breath again as Derek pulled free of Stiles’ hand.

After a bit, Derek appeared again.

Stiles looked him over, still breathing heavily. “You just took off your underwear, didn’t you?”

Derek hummed and held up a balled up mass. He tossed it into the passenger seat.

Stiles reached down, feeling along Derek’s hip. Jeans. He frowned. “You’re going commando in those? You’re going to chaff.”

Derek laughed and pulled Stiles closer. “I’ll survive.”

Stiles snuggled in, tucked up against Derek’s side again. “I’m not complaining, but what brought that on?”

Derek huffed out a laugh. “You kept humping me and saying my name in your sleep.”

Stiles flushed. “Ah. That would, ah, that would do it.”

Derek hummed. “You’re okay?”

Stiles laughed, “Uh, yeah. Better than okay. Great.”

“Warmer?”

“Yes mom.”

“Oh god,” Derek groaned, “Don’t say that after what just happened.”

Stiles smiled, settling in closer.

__________________________________________

A couple hours later, some rescue people came and tapped on their window. Stiles had tried jumping away guilty from Derek, but Derek’s arms only tightened around him, holding him down.

Derek pushed himself up, leaving Stiles under the blankets while he spoke in a hushed tone with them, nodding them off before closing the door.

He climbed back under the blankets.

Stiles shuffled back, making room.

Derek squeezed in and handed Stiles a protein bar, opening one himself.

“This from rescue?” Stiles asked.

Derek nodded. “They said it’ll be another hour. They’ve got plows in clearing the snow and getting the truck out of the way.”

Stiles nodded.

That meant another hour tangled up around Derek.

When cars started slowly turning on around them, Stiles and Derek finally pulled themselves back into their seats.

Tom gave them a good morning wave, which Stiles reciprocated and Derek acknowledged by putting a hand on Stiles’ knee and squeezing.

As if Stiles need reminding, when they slowly started rolling forwards, Silver Caliber Guy proved that he was still an asshole by cutting off Blue Corolla Lady the first chance that he could. He took this opportunity to roll up next to Stiles and gave them a smile like he _knew_.

Stiles refrained from groaning and fixed his eyes ahead.

It was still slow going but at least they were moving. Everyone seemed to be merging into the left-hand lane. Stiles couldn’t help but feel a little smug that Silver Caliber Guy had been an asshole for nothing.

When he looked over to share this with Derek, Stiles found him lost in thought.

“Ribs okay?” Stiles asked, stomach turning.

Derek blinked, slowly coming back into himself.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, they’re fine.”

Stiles nodded. “Anything else you want to say? Something we should talk about?”

Derek was silent. “Yes, we probably should.” He said finally.

Stiles swallowed.

“Do you think we can do that again? Properly?” Derek asked. “Like maybe on a bed?”

Stiles couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Yeah, I think we could manage that.”

“Great.” Derek said.

Stiles smiled. They merged, pulling up to the truck that had flipped. As soon as they passed it, it had felt like the whole world had opened up. The highway expanded back into to three lanes, all beautifully cleared. The sun was even out, warming the snow.

Hopefully melting it too. God Stiles hated witched.

Overall, it wasn’t the worst thing to come out this week, Stiles thought as Derek’s fingers trailed down to play with the inner seam of his pants.

[end]


End file.
